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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28070553">Soft and Still</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/oper_1895/pseuds/oper_1895'>oper_1895</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bamboo, F/M, Gen, Hair Pulling, Non-Sexual Kink, Predicament Bondage, Rope Bondage, Subspace, Suspension Bondage, size discrepency - small top/large bottom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:28:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28070553</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/oper_1895/pseuds/oper_1895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve was stressed, tired, and lost in the new century. He knew what he was craving, but now he was a Super Soldier and Bucky wasn’t here so that wasn’t an option. Until Natasha offered.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers &amp; Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Soft and Still</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/gifts">TellMeNoAgain</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A gift for Tellmenoagain who asked for non-sexual rope bondage with a small top/large bottom.</p><p>Many many thanks to Inktastic1711 for making this make sense!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve looked dubiously down at Natasha. She was strong, he knew that, but he also could, and had, put her under his arm to carry her. He’d agreed to this when he was sad and sleepless and lost in this new century and just needed a break, but now that it was happening he couldn’t see how it would work.</p><p>It wasn’t that it was bad. He was standing, arms stretched out along a long piece of bamboo that Natasha had lashed across his back, and that was neat. The tight lashing around his chest restricted his breathing in a way that had edges of his old asthma and he could almost <em>almost </em>feel like less than six feet of super human muscle. Plus the rope felt nice on his skin; it had a bit of bite but was overall softer than the stuff they used to use, back when...  </p><p>And that was what Steve was trying to avoid, so he cut off that train of thought and went back to trying to focus on the other sensations as Natasha continued the tie. Steve looked down at Natasha’s head, bent in concentration, and let himself get distracted by the way the light caught her hair as her capable and confident hands worked the rope. The smooth drag was soothing as she spiraled the rope along his arms, down to his fingertips then back up to his chest. The bamboo transmitted the vibrations of the rope across his body. He shifted slightly, pressing into the bamboo, into the rope. <em>Trying</em>.</p><p>But he couldn’t find the space he used to have before, back when the rope could force him to be still, would give him the excuse to just stop fighting for just five minutes. Back when Bucky could look down at him and there would be a moment where Steve would feel controlled and contained and he could just <em>be</em>. </p><p>He looked down at Natasha as she tied off the last rope and sighed, “I’m sorry, Nat. I know you mean well, but I’m not sure this is going to work.”</p><p>She backed up a step to look at him, one hand on her hip, head cocked and calculating. “Is it bad, or just not working?”</p><p>“It’s not bad, this is fine. But-”</p><p>“Trust me to keep going?”</p><p>Steve hesitated. But the sensations were nice, and he did trust Natasha. At worst this would just be a weird team bonding moment they could pretend never happened. He nodded. </p><p>Natasha’s eyes flashed in dangerous satisfaction, and Steve had a moment of curiosity before she reached out casually to the end of the bamboo pole and in one smooth movement drove him to one knee. He managed to keep upright but then she yanked him to the side and suddenly he was sitting on the floor, legs awkwardly folded to the side as the other end of the bamboo thunked into the floor. The vibrations shivered across his body as he tried to struggle up, but he couldn’t get any traction and she had all the control. It left him staring up at her and suddenly Natasha looked a lot taller. </p><p>“Leverage,” she said, smirking.</p><p>The moment hit him like alcohol used to. Not a slow slide into stillness, but a sudden plunge. He really should have known she knew what she was doing. </p><p>She let go of the bamboo and slipped down to one knee on the floor. She was leaning down towards him but kept her balance centered; he knew if he moved, she'd be able to move with him. But he didn’t want to move. Instead he just watched, feeling drunk as she tied a cuff around his ankle with smooth competence. The soft friction was soothing as she settled it against his skin, then her warm hands were on his leg, carefully lifting and pushing his ankle towards his body with deliberate control. He felt the tension increasing in his muscles and joints as she forced his foot in towards his body until she hummed, apparently satisfied he was exactly where she wanted him to be, his foot almost touching his naval, his back leg useless with how his weight was sitting. She secured his front leg in place by wrapping the rope around his waist twice with quick confident flicks before locking the tension off. That left her with a couple feet of rope, and she caught his eye with a wicked grin before she wrapped that around his big toe, twisting it into the rest of the ropes. He hissed, more surprised than pained as she tweaked his foot to a contorted angle. </p><p>She’d locked his leg all the way down, the joints of his hip, knee and ankle were all twisted enough that he couldn’t level his full strength against the rope. He pulled against it anyway, just to feel the rope, feel the position. He bit back a moan as the ropes cut in above his hips, cinching tighter around his waist. That… that was good.</p><p>While he was distracted with that Natasha slipped around to his back, graceful even on her knees, and was tying another rope around his other ankle. He grunted as she lifted that foot towards his back, shifting as much as he could he could to allow the range of motion she was demanding. She held him there, leaning into his leg with her body to free her hands so she could snake one hand into his hair. Strong hands pulled his head back, forcing an arch into his spine until she found his limit. Then she backed off slightly and Steve felt the contrast of soft skin and textured rope brush his cheek. He turned slightly towards it, leaning into the pull in his hair, and let her carefully place the rope between his teeth before dragging the rope around his face and pulling it back to his ankle.</p><p>He couldn’t hold back the moan there. It slipped out of him in a happy sigh as she tied off the rope, the weight of his leg pulling at the tender corners of his mouth, and he felt the rest of his resistance melt away. Any other movement would only make this harder. The only thing he had left was to just be in this moment. </p><p>“There we go,” Natasha purred, and Steve sank into the softness of the moment, the feeling of restraint. </p><p>It was hazy darkness. It was stillness. It was a single moment that could last forever. And on the other end of it was Natasha, who would keep him safe. Steve just breathed and felt. The prickles of the rope in his mouth were softening with his saliva, but he could taste it. He could smell it, wet and grassy and he could <em>feel </em>it holding him and making him small again.</p><p>He blinked his eyes open again, unaware he had closed them and saw Natasha looking down at him with something like fondness on her face. He felt something complicated settle into his gut, but then she reached out, tugging at the bamboo and he found his already shallow breathing catch again as she pushed him into a twist that slowly locked off more of his torso. </p><p>Every time he exhaled it let her push him farther and a casual hand on the end of the bamboo was all it took to keep him pinned here, caught between his own opposing pressures of twist and untwist, of pressures pulling him both forward and back. He was tied up in his own body and she had all the control.</p><p>His breath sang in his lungs as she slowly untwisted him and let him breathe again. He felt fuzzy and buzzed and relaxed and wonderful. </p><p>--</p><p>The next time it was easier to let go. He was sitting on the floor, legs casually bent with his knees tied together in front of him. Natasha was working on his arms behind him, weaving the rope between his straight arms and the bamboo. The end of the bamboo loomed high above Steve’s head, full of potential. Steve focused on his breathing. </p><p>Natasha stood once she’d finished tying Steve’s arms, stepping to his side. He let out a long breath as she tilted his chin up with a delicate finger. She smiled at him, and he could see her own stillness in her eyes as she pressed down on the long end of the bamboo, pivoting it on his shoulder and levering his arms up. He held the eye contact as long as he could until he was forced to bow forward into his knees, trying to make the space as his shoulders strained. She lashed the end of the bamboo to his shins. </p><p>She let him sit in the strain and the stillness, lounging on the couch next to him, occasionally brushing his hair, and he drifted.</p><p>--</p><p>The third time he waited for her on his knees, felt himself go soft as soon as she wrapped the rope around his forearms where they were folded behind his back. She circled him, her bare feet silent as she drew the lines of rope across his chest. </p><p>She was gentle this time. He hadn’t thought it could still be gentle.</p><p>--</p><p>He couldn’t see how this would work. There was so much of him and even though she was strong and capable, she was small. But Natasha tied off the lines one by one to the reinforced bracket in the ceiling, and let him sink into the ropes rather than lifting him into the air. When his leg was lifted out from under him and he felt himself flying and free, he laughed despite himself. He was distantly surprised to hear Natasha's own quiet pleased huff.  </p><p>It was different from the ways he felt on the floor. There, he felt steady and small when the rope was on him, but here, now, <em>flying</em>, it made him feel the weight of himself. It dragged his mind down into the soft space and it made his body feel realer. His body was tall and strong but here, with Natasha and the rope keeping him secure, it still felt like his. </p><p>He grunted as Natasha hauled on a rope, lifting his chest and shifting his weight in the network of ties. He tensed, pushing into the rope to support himself in the new position, then laughed again as he realized what he did; how he moved without thinking in a way he never could before, and the stillness of his mind still was still singing to him. He felt both strong and soft, and for the first time since he woke up in this new century, he thought that it just might be okay.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All comments are welcome, including keyboard smashing and emojis!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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